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Khyra
=Personality= Khyra is an intelligent, yet manipulative woman. She uses a combination of wits and looks to survive the harsh world of Hyboria. Through her travels she has learned the magic of demonology and uses the demons she summons for her own personal gain. She's a good leader, and a very protective of those she calls friend. =History= As told by Khyra: Chapter One: My childhood was one of blessed ignorance. Raised in the dusty streets of Khemi with the salty sea air blowing through my hair, the stench of fresh fish, and the yells of the traders. I was in heaven, or as close to heaven as a small girl can be. For the most part I was ignored, on the rare occassion I'd be praised for a small thing or another, scolded more often. No father, but I sure had a good flock of mothers, not that I could tell which one was my true mother. I was raised near the Temple of Derketo, and apparently my mother was one of the favored courtesans who had an unfortunate accident, me. Newborns clearly won't sell on the slave market, too much hassle. So the ladies of the temple took me in and let me have my way around the town. At age eleven I became a woman. Not in the ways you might be thinking. I got that curse every woman gets as the moon cycles. That was when the mothers began to really take notice of me. They wanted to start teaching me manners and combing my hair and putting koal around my eyes. Sitting still for their minstrations was a hideous task I put up with until I could escape into the dusty streets once again. I was a wild child, nobody could tame me. The orphans and poor children would play games in the streets and I would join them shamelessly. That same year brought other changes as well. We moved from the street games we had played to exploring areas around the docks. Small children can fit into small spaces, we rarely got caught. The boys would all pretend to be traders from some foreign land bringing rich spices or slaves and reaping the gold in return. We had our fun with this venture taking what we could find laying around or unguarded in a fat pocket. It was my hair I think that was my downfall that summer. The long dark tresses seem to scream out my sex to all who cared to realize it. Boys playing around the docks can easily go unnoticed for months at a time, until they are caught at their thievery. A female however, one with golden skin and dark hair can not easily be ignored. I was not ignored for very long. One sailor, well dressed considering the profession approached us a few times. He offered fruit or spice cakes and turned his head when he saw our misdeeds. We came to see him as a sort of adult playmate though he never actually played. There come certain ships into port that create odd whisperings around the city. Mothers hold their children closer, house slaves venture no further than needed for their marketing. Even the poor children would stay home those days instead of coming out to play in the afternoon sun. Those were the days when I would stay in the temple and try to occupy myself by watching the mothers while they prepared for their evenings. One mother in particular had been working for months on a strange dance with sharp turns and drastic movements. It seemed to me an odd dance but I liked it. I'd begun to mimic her movements and over the months was able to mimic her quite well so that on this day I thought that perhaps I had finally gotten it right. Her dance ended and I quickly moved away. Into the garden I went to practice the dance once again. Another fatal mistake on my part. I did not realize it at the time but my dance that day was watched by someone other than the mothers. The man from the docks had come seeking entertainment for an influential captain, so he said. His story was that the captain of this mysterious ship had somehow just come into a lot of money and he was willing to spend it on quality female entertainment for once rather than spend his coin at the local jade house. I was dressed and groomed until I shone like a golden lotus bloom, and when the mothers left for their meeting with this captain I was with them. To be fair I don't fault the mothers at all. Perhaps they thought I would be some galley slave, or be traded at the next port. Surely they would not have sold me so quickly to such a being if they had known his intent.